Verbal Spar
by Wordgawk
Summary: Vergil and Dante share air in an elevator. What heated topic of conversation is debated between them?


**Author's note: This wacky fic was originally dialogue-only as a writing practice. The Vergil mood struck me, having not written about him or DMC3 for a while, so what the heck: Toss in some exposition and make this non-story into one. This was an old idea in my archives, remade new! It was a fun experience to shape a story around pre-written dialogue. I made it a point not to alter the dialogue in any way from the original, adding to the expository challenge. **

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Verbal Spar

"What's that weird look for, Vergil?"

"Just move your cheese-stained hide inside the hotel elevator, Dante."

Past midnight, the day had been anything but quiet. Dante drummed up the ludicrous idea to crash an anime convention some miles away from the Devil May Cry office. How Dante heard of it was beyond Vergil's realm of knowledge.

Frankly, this was one piece of information he wasn't compelled to learn.

Vergil hadn't been told his destination, nor what plans were going to be set in motion. What resulted from Dante's unforeseen discovery was Vergil being politely --at first-- requested to come with him to a centre. A weekend trip, they'd stay at a nearby hotel when they wanted to sleep. His younger sibling convinced Vergil no preparation was needed for this outing and all he required was his charming self. A couple extra bucks wouldn't hurt, either.

Dubious about the whole affair, Vergil resisted, but as Dante heckled him he began to reconsider. The break from answering client calls and dealing with Dante's aggravating customers was too appealing.

So Vergil tagged along. It wasn't until he set his body into the building that Dante finally explained the happenings.

The critical brow raised more than a few instances as Vergil filed past stragglers. Hundreds, possibly thousands of people occupied the building Dante spoke of. Attendees rushing to events, lounging, and chit-chatting a mile a minute. There were humans dressed normally and some humans who could pass as demonic what with the copious amounts of garish makeup applied to look nothing like human.

Vergil had the opportunity to observe what Dante found so attractive about this place. There were some things, but Dante's main attraction was the reason why his clothes were dirty and Vergil's mood was not the epitome of chipper.

They entered the surprisingly empty elevator, intending on going back to their shared room for the night before morning came and the bustle started up once again. Neither man attempted to press their floor number on the panel. The doors remained parted.

Dante tapped the toe of one of his clunky boots on the ground. "Whoa, your knickers are in a twist. Those girls invited us over to hang out in their room. They offered us pizza. They got it homemade from a friend. _Homemade!_ Anyway, what's buggin' you? I thought you enjoyed attention." Dante crudely jeered at Vergil.

Before everyone met up, Dante had repeatedly and very clearly informed him that the women were indeed of age, as if that would sway Vergil to act impulsively to his primal desires. It had been Vergil who prevented transgressions from proceeding any further than lewd remarks and the occasional groping from Dante to the women.

"Those three hours were not my idea of favorable attention. Press the button for our floor." Vergil owed it to himself to be lazy this demanding evening.

"I'd love to, but I can't. Will you do it?"

"And why, dare I ask, can you not?" Trust Dante to snatch sloth first.

"The pizza was oily. Oil makes things slick. Like my fingers." Absolute casualness passed Dante's face when he spoke this.

"…No doubt." Vergil wasn't going to stare through open space all night, so he moodily thumbed their floor number on the panel. The metallic sliding doors glided shut and hushed mechanical whirring followed next. Vergil concentrated on the comforting sounds for a moment before he spoke. "Why didn't you leave when I asked you?"

"Leave that crazy party? They loved us!"

"It's an anime convention, Dante. Females go wild at seeing anyone dressed up remotely male."

"But we got noticed! We didn't even have to try!"

Dante was correct. Their complimentary red and blue outfits caught eyes from everywhere and picture requests became a norm. More camera flashbulbs popped in Vergil's face than he cared for. He couldn't understand why their everyday clothes merited such grandiose attention.

"Insulting is what it was. If a group of women harassed me in the same way out on the street, they would receive my Yamato blade through their navels." In a better mood, Vergil might not have committed himself to this vile act.

Dante frowned at the thought of his older brother skewering lovely lasses. "You're cruel."

"Must they throw themselves at me? It's the surest sign of an attacker."

"It's called glomping. It's harmless to us half-demons." Dante smiled whimsically, mentally replaying the countless ones he had received.

Vergil accepted his fair share of them from both genders which was awkward personified. A half demon hugging random strangers he could otherwise slash asunder had it been a job allowable circumstance.

Vergil continued scathingly, his true reason for his irritation driving his anger. "And _you_! You had the audacity to use my sword as a filthy pizza cutter!" His fingers tightened around his precious katana, sheathed naturally.

"Hey, I left Rebellion in our room and the babes couldn't find a knife." Dante shrugged offhandedly.

"Not only that, but you had to swing my sword like a hooligan when you cut that _disgusting_-"

"--homemade-"

"--garbage. You splattered cheese and tomato sauce all over the side of my coat! Luckily my vest was spared and I can carry my coat. Nobody will see this ridiculous mess." To his word, Vergil's cerulean coat was draped protectively over his arm. He abhorred untidiness. Thank goodness for running water and soap. He was taking advantage of those amenities tonight.

"I also got dirty. Hmm, I'll take off my jacket too." Slipping off his crimson jacket, Dante brushed at the faint orange sauce marks dotting his bare stomach. He began to lightly whistle a tune.

"I reminded you repeatedly that I did not want pizza passing my lips, but you conveniently went deaf and cut me a slice. Then you provoked those women with your sword skills and excited them to the point where a moment of silence was impossible to achieve."

Whistling stopped. Dante stared disbelievingly at him. "Silence to do what? Sip your freakin' tea? Dude, tea doesn't go with pizza. Did you bring scones, too?"

"I didn't want pizza." Vergil sniffed.

Dante rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"My Yamato has grease all over its handle and blade! This is unforgivable, Dante."

"Grease is good for a sword. You're only upset because of the little girl."

Upon seeing Dante's cheeky grin, Vergil shifted uncomfortably. "I… don't know what you mean."

"Don't play the naïve card on me, Verg. She was what, six? Your expression was so adorable when she asked for a picture with you."

"That's foolish talk." The upstanding son of Sparda felt heat rise up his neck at the memory. The brothers had rested on a set of stone stairs to discuss their afternoon's findings when the aforementioned child came up to them.

She uttered hardly three words past her initial request --just the way Vergil liked kids-- and begrudgingly, her round and liquid eyes were ridiculously adorable as they stared at the twins.

No way in hell was Vergil ever going to admit _that_ to the smirking Dante who was currently prodding his ribs playfully to elicit a reaction.

"She sat in your lap for the photo. Even though you didn't smile, she liked ya." Dante chuckled.

Yes, the youngster did enjoy the photo opportunity. So did the gaggle of girls who followed when they passed the guys and their vision fell upon such a tender scene. Cameras whipped out faster than Vergil could protest.

Vergil tightly crossed his arms. "You're reading into nothing, Brother."

"Man, I haven't heard a group of women squeal that loudly in a long time. That kid sure smacked you a kiss on the cheek as thanks." Dante unfortunately chose to add visuals to the audio by planting his wet mouth on Vergil's cheek in his rendition of an endearing pucker. Dante's own cheek received a sharp elbow in reciprocation.

"Hmph."

"Whoo! Is that a blush?" Dante grinned widely, teeth showing.

A ding met their ears, signifying to Vergil the blissful sound of escape from this nonsensical conversation. "…We've arrived. When we get out, please act civilized."

Dante pulled his face into a scowl, a poor attempt at mocking Vergil's stoic expression.

The elevator doors slid open. Vergil breathed a sigh of relief at finally obtaining considerable silence, but then it came.

Synchronous high-pitched squeals. Two hyperactive females. Both blocking his beloved exit.

"Aiiii! It's Dante! He's shirtless!"

"Ooooh, Vergil, that vest shows off your fine biceps!"

Vergil tiredly closed his eyes, resisting the urge to slam his boot forward to clear the way. "...So much for having quiet."

-- THE END --


End file.
